


Lindy Hop

by LittleMissCactus



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Flowers, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Unconventional Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23126572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissCactus/pseuds/LittleMissCactus
Summary: A hodgepodge collection of oneshots written for a certain dear friend of mine's birthday~Oneshots include:1. All I Worship and AdoreMairon gets called into the throne room on urgent business. He is not happy about it. (SFW)2. There's Such a Lot of WorldBoromir learns that hobbits are not quite the innocent little darlings that he had assumed them to be. (NSFW)3. Night Breezes Seem to WhisperSometimes, Éowyn's favourite conversations with Faramir are the ones where they say nothing at all. (SFW)4. A Song of Love That Clings to MeThe quest may be over, but Legolas and Gimli's new life is just beginning. So, might as well start it off right. (NSFW)5. Your Face in Every FlowerIt's an important birthday for Mister Frodo and Sam wants to make sure that his gift is perfect. (SFW)
Relationships: Boromir (Son of Denethor II)/Pippin Took, Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee, Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon, Éowyn/Faramir (Son of Denethor II)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Lindy Hop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrPanicAttack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrPanicAttack/gifts).



_What could he possibly want this time?_

Mairon grumbled and shoved his hands into the folds of his robes as he walked through the dark corridors of Angband. He had been in the middle of an important project in his forge - an important project that _Melkor had specifically told him to do_ \- when he had suddenly been told to stop everything that he was doing and see his Master in the throne room immediately. If Mairon still prayed, he would have been doing so about now in hopes that Melkor had not changed his mind about what exactly he wanted.

He paused outside the door to the throne room to collect himself. It would do him no good to storm in angrily and likely get punished for being too impertinent. Melkor usually found his frankness amusing, but even he had limits, and Mairon was not sure that he wanted to push his luck. Least of all with this mysterious business that Melkor deemed so urgent as to _interrupt Mairon’s work-_

He stopped himself and sighed heavily. No. Melkor could be infuriating, but he was never stupid. Well, almost never. He knew how much Mairon hated being interrupted, so if he decided to do it anyways, there must be a reason. 

“Or at least, there had better be,” Mairon muttered under his breath before pushing the heavy doors open. 

“There you are. Come here, Mairon,” a familiar voice echoed through the room. 

Mairon allowed himself a long-suffering sigh as he knelt in front of the throne. “You summoned me, my lord?” He could not help the trace of venom that seeped into his voice. If Melkor noticed, the only indication of it was a ghost of a smirk flashing across his lips. 

“Yes. I know that you hate it when I pull you away from a project, but this is important. I have had some misgivings about the amount of effort that you have been putting into it.”

Mairon sputtered in a combination of shock and indignation. “Misgivings?! Do you take issue with the quality of my work? I’ll have you know that-“

He was silenced by a heavy, gloved hand settling on his shoulder and he glowered up at Melkor. 

“No. It is not the quality of your work that I am concerned with. Quite the opposite. Mairon, you have not taken even a moment to rest in weeks. I know that you like to enthrall yourself in a project until it is finished, but I will not have my most valuable lieutenant working himself into the ground over a piece of metal.” Melkor’s tone was as flat and vaguely irritated as ever, but Mairon could pick up on the faintest hint of a tremor in his voice. 

_No, only over a few rocks._

Mairon bit his tongue, knowing better than to risk sassing Melkor when he was in a mood. “My lord, I appreciate your concern, but it really is not necessary. I do not need rest. I worked for far longer at a time in Valinor, remember.”

“You did not have a physical form to concern yourself with in Valinor,” Melkor shot back, and Mairon lowered his head. 

“My lord, I promise you, I am _fine_. I-“

“Mairon, have you seen yourself? You look terrible. I know that you still cannot die from exhaustion, but that does not mean that you can just-“ Melkor paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You will rest. At least for a day or two. That is an order.”

“A _day?!_ What nonsense is this? You have said some idiotic things before, but this truly goes above and beyond any expectations that I had had.” Mairon was too angry to hold his tongue by now, and if he were to be honest with himself (which he rarely was), he was afraid. He and his forge were one and the same. Without his work, what was he?

“Mairon, that is an _order_. Will you refuse it?”

Mairon flinched at Melkor’s tone and bowed lower so that his forehead was inches from Melkor’s knee in hopes that the act of submission would appease Melkor’s anger and- _Now_ what was he doing?!

Mairon’s eyes darted around wildly to try to understand what was happening. Melkor was... playing with his hair? Of all of the possible reactions Melkor could have had, he was- what?!

“Mairon, if I was going to punish you for your tongue, I would have done it long ago,” Melkor said dryly, though he was smiling. He bent down to kiss Mairon’s soft curls and sighed. “You need not be afraid.”

Mairon hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly allowed himself to relax, his head falling against Melkor’s thigh with a soft thud. “I know, Master. Forgive me for not trusting you.” His voice was barely audible and his face burned in embarrassment at the situation that he was in. Still, he could not deny that he rather enjoyed having Melkor play with his hair. It felt... safe, somehow. Like home. 

“Mairon, I do not doubt your strength. I know that you can survive under the strain that you are putting yourself under. But it worries me. I do not like seeing you like this.” He cupped Mairon’s face in his hands and tilted his chin up so that their eyes met. “If you will not rest for your own sake, do it for mine.”

Mairon hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. I will do my best. But do not expect me to be happy about it.” His usual sarcastic tone was beginning to creep back into his voice and Melkor laughed. 

“When are you ever happy?”

Mairon thought for a moment. “Well, I am rather close to it right now,” he said with a slight smirk. 

“Good. Because I am rather close to it right now too.” Melkor bent down to press his lips against Mairon’s. They were soft, but not delicate. Like an old pair of leather gloves. _Rather like Mairon himself,_ Melkor mused as he pulled away. “Now, go put away your tools. You will not need them for a while.”


End file.
